


Measure in Love

by AKA_47



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2780822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKA_47/pseuds/AKA_47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Us. How enormous that little word was. How improbable, and now how absolutely necessary to the happiness in his life. He needed them both safe, with him, always. He’d found himself making all kinds of promises to the child who was still just barely an idea in his mind (that wonderful, surreal idea that felt more like a dream than anything else). He would be gentle. That was the one he vowed more often than the others, gentle and loving. His child would never fear him. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes. History didn’t need to repeat. Patterns could change. For one thing, he had Mac, and she was strong. She would keep his feet planted firmly on the ground. He would be all right as long as he had her. They would be all right." Post finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Measure in Love

**Author's Note:**

> My first post finale story. I feel all sorts of bitter sweet about that. I hope it turned out okay. Enjoy! (The title comes from the musical RENT, which has nothing to do with the story, but RENT is beautiful).

Will was going to kill Jim Harper, which was going to be really inconvenient because then he would be out an EP, and Mac would likely kill _him,_ but it couldn’t be helped. If Mac were still his EP, it would have been impossible for her to sneak out of the office hours before broadcast, but ever since she had taken Charlie’s place Mac was impossibly busy, and Will left her alone more often than not. As a result it had taken until the end of the show when Jim had slipped into his office, back pressed against the door as though planning his escape, for Will to hear that Mac had left.

“She didn’t say why,” Jim had said, cutting of Will’s question preemptively. “She only made me promise that I wouldn’t tell you until the show was over.”

In the entire time that they’d been working together, Will had never seen Mac leave work, and could count only a handful of times she’d called in sick. The fact that she would have to _now,_ and without any notice, made panic flutter in Will’s stomach. He tamped it down with anger, directed very narrowly and intensely at Jim.

“She does not get to make decisions like that,” Will had yelled, already grabbing his coat.

Jim had shifted uncomfortably, hands in his pockets. “She’s my boss, so…”

Will hadn’t had a response to that, so he settled for pushing past Jim on the way out, glaring daggers the whole way.

Mackenzie was asleep when he made it to the apartment, slumped on the couch she’d bought when he was in prison, tired of sitting on paint buckets, the floor, or the bed. A folder had fallen from her hands, papers splayed on the floor. In his time at ACN, Will had never seen Charlie do much work, but from all that Mac was taking home, he could only imagine all that went into the job. She was exhausted. She hardly slept from the enormity of it all, brushing off his concern as the circles under her eyes steadily darkened.

He sank down to the couch beside her, searching for any sign that he should be worried, or that he shouldn’t. She was frowning in her sleep, her brows drawn together. He knew that he should let her rest, that she desperately needed it, but he couldn’t stand another moment not knowing if she was all right. He touched his hand to her cheek and she startled, eyelids fluttering, until she focused on him and a smile spread slowly across her face.

“Hi.” She looked at her watch, blinking until it came into focus, “It’s early. You must have left in a hurry.” She bent to pick up the fallen papers, stuffing them back into the folder.

“I wonder why.”

“Hmm?” She tucked her hair behind her ear, not looking at him. She grabbed her discarded shoes, hooking the back of them with her fingers and making her way to the bedroom.

“Mackenzie,” he warned, following her.

“Why don’t you tell me what the meaning of that tone is and we can save some time?” She unbuttoned her blouse, shrugging out of it and tossing it into the hamper. Without a word she turned and Will unzipped her skirt. It fell to the floor and she threw it after the blouse.

“Why’d you leave work?” He refrained from adding _without telling me._ He didn’t want to sound paranoid.

“I was tired and I knew I could work from here.” Her voice came through the t-shirt she was tugging over her head.

“You missed the show.”

She smiled at him, walking over and kissing his cheek, “I’m sorry, Honey. How’d it go?”

She was mocking him and he didn’t miss it for a second. “I didn’t mean—I don’t care about that, it’s just you would never do that. You’ve never done it before.”

“I was your EP before. I was required to be there.” She brushed against him as she walked by. “Do you want some coffee?” She walked to the kitchen, peering into the cabinet.

“Sure.” He answered automatically, watching as she stood on tip toe. She searched through the contents, scowling at them. “I’ll get it,” he said, coming to his senses.

“Can you get the decaf tea, too?” She made a face as she said it. “Why is everything I like to drink caffeinated?” She filled the tea kettle with more malice than the task really deserved.

“Everything good is caffeinated,” Will said, turning on the Keurig with a great deal of showmanship.

“Don’t gloat.” She narrowed her eyes at him, leaning against the kitchen counter.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Not gloating. Mac, I just need an answer and then we can talk about whatever you want. Are you okay?”

She sighed, staring at the kettle on the stove as the surface glowed red beneath it.

“Okay. Feel free to terrify me less.” Will could feel his face draining of color, and he wanted to move closer to her, hold her, touch her, _something_ , except he was frozen still, listening to the damn Keurig tell him that his coffee was ready.

Mac shook her head, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m all right. I should be all right.” She looked over at him, a look of alarm suddenly registering on her face. “Will, breathe!” She commanded. She rushed to him, taking his hand in hers. The pressure of her grasp seemed to make his lungs expand.

“What does that mean?” He asked, almost too quietly for her to hear.

“It means,” the kettle hissed angrily at her and she glared at it, “will you be okay if I let go?”

Will nodded, though he wasn’t sure it was completely truthful, and she turned the stove off.

She reached for his hand again and he welcomed the feel of her skin against his, everything seemed less daunting when they were near each other. “I went to the doctor today because I was bleeding a little bit.” She winced at his expression of blank disbelief, but plunged on. “The doctor said that everything is fine. She said it happens to about 30 percent of women, and it doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“But it could,” he finished for her, his mouth dry.

“Not this time, but yes, it could.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

She bit her lip, turning away from him as her cheeks reddened. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“And you thought that telling me after the fact was the best way to stop that. Good plan.” She could hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice even without seeing his expression.

“I thought it was probably nothing, and there was no reason for you to get stressed out before your show…” she trailed off. Her hands shook as she poured her tea. She tried to hide it, but he noticed.

“Or you thought it was _something_ and wanted time to figure out how to tell me.” He came up behind her, laying his hand over her shaking one to steady it. She tensed, her breath catching in her throat. His other hand wound around her stomach, something that had not long ago meant nothing aside from closeness. He didn’t want that again. He wanted nothing more than the simple pleasure of wrapping his arms around her and knowing that his _child_ grew inside her. He pressed a kiss into her neck, making a conscious effort not to get mad.

“Don’t do that again.” He murmured into her ear, and her answering laugh shook with tears.

“God, I hope I don’t have to.”

“Hey,” he spun her gently to face him, “you don’t have to, no matter what happens. You don’t have to. You’re stuck with me, remember?”

She smiled a watery smile at him. “Is that what those vows meant?”

He shrugged, “I think so. I mean, I kind of stopped listening after you came down in that dress.”

She laughed in earnest, her whole body quivering with the relief of it, laying her forehead against his chest.

“So, what do we do?” Will asked as he combed his fingers through her hair.

“Not much. Relax. And if you suggest that I quit the job I _just_ got, I will kill you, so tread carefully.”

“I think murdering your husband would be the opposite of relaxing. So, just to be clear, the discussion is off the table?”

Mackenzie nodded emphatically into his shirt, “definitely.”

“I’d like to say for the record that I heard you just now, but—why can’t we talk about it?”

She groaned, pushing away from him. She grabbed her mug and walked back to the couch, curling into it. “Because I would go stir crazy at home. I’m not even out of the first trimester yet.”

“Right,” he motioned for her to scoot over, sitting behind her, pulling her against him, “but isn’t that kind of the point? I want to make sure we’re doing whatever we can here.”

She craned her neck to kiss him. “Billy, I love you, but if I have to stay home I will be miserable. That’s not relaxing. I will do everything humanly possible to make sure this baby is born healthy, but right now that does _not_ involve leaving work. You’ll have to trust me.”

“Yes ma’am,” he moved his hands down her sides so she squirmed. She batted them away until they came to rest again at her stomach. “What’s the plan?”

“Worry less that everything’s going to go wrong,” she said a little breathlessly.

Will snorted, “Could you maybe pick something a little easier?”

She nudged him with her elbow. “Hey, Director of Morale, if you can’t handle the job I’ll have to hire a replacement.” She smirked at him and he raised his eyebrows.

“Who do you have in mind, Boss?”

“Maggie is pretty optimistic.”

“Yeah, she might have been before you got to her. Now she’s gone through all sorts of shit with Jim and Don, and she was shot at, don’t forget that.”

“Point taken,” Mac conceded. “Jim?”

“Seriously? He was embedded with you for one, then there’s Maggie, and Lisa and Hallie, and the whole mess with the Romney campaign, Genoa.” He ticked them off one by one on his fingers.

“He’s with Maggie now,” Mac argued weakly.

“And they’re about to enter into a long distance relationship,” Will countered.

“Fine. Sloan.” She didn’t need Will’s answering silence to realize the ridiculousness of what she’d just said, “Yeah. I get it.”

“So, I’m the best you’ve got.” He tightened his grip around her, burying his nose in her hair.

“God help us, but I guess you are entitled to certain rights as the father.”

He smiled into her skin. _Us._ How enormous that little word was. How improbable, and now how absolutely necessary to the happiness in his life. He needed them both safe, with him, always. He’d found himself making all kinds of promises to the child who was still just barely an idea in his mind (that wonderful, surreal idea that felt more like a dream than anything else). He would be gentle. That was the one he vowed more often than the others, gentle and loving. His child would never fear him. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes. History didn’t need to repeat. Patterns could change. For one thing, he had Mac, and she was strong. She would keep his feet planted firmly on the ground. He would be all right as long as he had her. _They_ would be all right.

“So, we finally hammered down this paternity thing. Good,” he quipped, because what he wanted to say was just too enormous for words. How could you possibly thank someone for the entirety of your happiness? The whole of your purpose?

“You’ll have to trust my word on that one.” Mac yawned and he brushed her hair back.

“I’ll cancel with Maury.”

“Ha. Ha.” She leaned into him, letting her eyes shut.

“Do you want to go to bed?” He asked.

“I’m fine right here.” She took his hand and twined their fingers together, her breath evening out. Within moments she was asleep.

Here, with the weight of her against him, safe and warm, it was easy to believe that nothing could go wrong. For the first time all night he allowed himself to relax. If there was one thing he knew, it was that he trusted Mac. She was right. She was always right. They would be fine. More than fine, they would be happy.

 

 

 


End file.
